


Questions

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Gen, ambiguous - Freeform, impled NoctNyx, mention of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 16:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10222448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Ignis remembered when Noctis was an exuberant young boy firing off incessant questions. It had been a long while since Noct had asked him about much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Some morning fluffy whim that started off as a character study/theory. 
> 
> I'm also at [Tumblr](http://aithilin.tumblr.com/).

Ignis and Gladios both knew Noctis before he was attacked as a child. They both knew him when he was a smiling, exuberant, infuriatingly energetic child. Even though they had been groomed to be his companions from the same young age-- to serve at his side, to know their roles for a young prince and a young king-- they also knew Noctis as a close friend. 

And they remembered when he was much more free with his smiles. 

Gladio had always blamed himself, in part, for not being there too. He knew that he was a child at the time, but he had been training since he could walk-- the sense of duty had been drilled into him, the ideal shown to him with every moment he witnessed between his father and King Regis. He knew his role, and he should have been on that day trip out with Prince Noctis. It was a form of survivor’s guilt, Ignis had theorised-- Gladio knew that he was meant to be a shield, the protector, and he had failed by virtue of age and absence. 

Ignis was more rational about the whole thing. He understood then that they were just children too. That the attack was a calculated assassination attempt-- something meant to strike at the very heart of King Regis, to end the Lucian line. Ignis had understood his duties just as well as Gladio had, but he had also known that dying alongside Noct’s handlers at the time, being cut down in front of their prince because they were too young, too untrained, would not have helped anyone. 

But they both remembered the change in Noct. 

They both remembered the coma, and the disastrous trip to Tenebrae (they had also been absent for-- though Iggy would have liked to taste those tarts that Noct had craved ever since). They remembered Noct’s guilt and fear, and the way he tried to withdraw. They remembered the way that the prince had understood, at the time, that he was his father’s weakness, and that those who were close to him would be targets as well. 

Ignis remembered the nightmares. Gladio remembered the lethargy. The way the prince simply wasn’t there. 

He had only been a child.

When Prompto befriended Noct, they had both been hopeful. They had seen the small smiles, heard the way Noct spoke of his new friend-- this friend who didn’t seem to care about his name or his destiny. This little bundle of energy and sunshine who taught Noct about cameras and photography, and shared his interest in animals and video games. Who would be the reason Noct started slipping out of the Citadel alone or dragging one of them with him to ease the King’s worry. 

Ignis had vetted Prompto after the fact, since no one seemed to have looked in on the boy’s family before he started wheedling his way into Noct’s life (Ignis hadn’t seen the way Clarus had investigated Prompto’s neighbourhood, his family, his history). But found that, despite the bad taste in food and the encouragement for Noct to continue being a stubborn little smartass, Prompto was good for their prince. 

But it wasn’t until later, much later by their thought, that some elements of the Noct they used to remember started to come through again. 

They don’t know what caused it, and Ignis didn’t like not knowing, but they had started to see the boyish smiles, the excitement again. Gladio said that Noct was more interested in his training, in his magic. He had learnt tricks Gladio sure as hell couldn’t have taught him. Tricks that Regis could only talk about now. 

When Noct was a child, he had been energetic-- he had chased bugs and frogs in the gardens, had forced his way through lessons just to be that much closer to running outside. Ignis had remembered their tutor getting frustrated with the endless barrage of questions and how he had taken to finding answers for Noct himself. He remembered the way the prince would watch him, absorb information, attach himself to those around him, follow the staff and guards to learn everything he could about them... 

“Hey, Iggy?”

“Dinner is in ten minutes,” Ignis had been trying to keep a closer eye on Noct now that they had an apartment. Now that he was the only extension of the Crownsguard in easy reach if something happened. Now that Noct had seemed to take to late night walks and staying up until dawn rather than being sensible. Now that Noct came home in the early morning hours, grinning and excited (Ignis had assumed from whatever Prompto kept him out with) and rushing to get ready for school.

“Not what I’m about to ask, Iggy.”

“What is it?”

“What do you know about Galahd?”

“Galahd?” Ingis knew the region-- of course he did, it’s fall to the Empire was still technically recent , and it’s loss as a Lucian alliance a black mark on the King’s conscience. “Not much, but I can find out. Why?”

“Some of the Kingsglaive are from there, aren’t they?”

“More than likely. I remember that people in Galahd had their own sort of magic and such that was compatible with your father’s. With yours.” Ignis started plating the meal he had been working on; hoping that at least a few of the vegetables would make their way past Noct’s defences if he was distracted enough to be asking questions. “But I asked why you’re interested.” 

“No reason. Can you take off the extra carrots?”

“There is one carrot, Noct.”

“That’s extra.”


End file.
